


Overdue Influences

by Gingervora



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Red Lyrium
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 14:24:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4525380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gingervora/pseuds/Gingervora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red lyrium is nasty stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overdue Influences

Flashes of red light passed her eyes, one following the other like a pattern on a wall as she ran past the rows of red lyrium in Emprise du Lion. From First of clan Lavellan to Inquisitor, she had seen things she would have never imagined, witnessed events she never thought possible, and been apart of history where others told her she should not have been. Red lyrium was a danger she wished she had never encountered. The corrupted templars that fought her at every turn, the glowing crystals that sprouted from the earth, that grew from people. It was the thing of nightmares.

Rona slowed to a fast walk, the cold air burning in her lungs with each breath. She wanted to keep running. Everything in her body told her to run away from the red pillars of lyrium, to turn back the way she came and never return. Despite her breathlessness, running seemed preferable to walking at even a fast pace. Lingering too long felt wrong. Thinking back to Varric's initial reaction to the red lyrium at Haven, she realized just how terrifying it must have been to him then. It was how she felt now and every moment she was around these things.

Words whispered in the back of her head. Soft sounds, barely noticeable if she were focusing on something else, but horribly tempting once she let herself concentrate on them. Though she tried to push her mind to other things - to the cold air that burned in her throat, to the sound of snow underneath her boots, to anything else - it just pulled her back in. The words were muffled and trying to pick apart the words was fruitless, though she couldn't stop trying.

A hand on her shoulder brought her back to reality and her head whipped around to see Cullen. No longer was she in the frosty remains of Emprise du Lion. She was back in Skyhold, in her own room. 

"Rona, are you alright?" he asked. Her vision was hazy and a dull pain lingered around her temples. A few blinks brought him into focus. He was half leaning over her, his eyes barely cracked open. Her gaze wandered down to see him only covered from his waist down with her blanket. Him sleeping in her bed with her was a familiar idea, but how they got here she couldn't remember.

A yawn slipped his lips and his other hand moved to cover his mouth. "You were making noises in your sleep. A nightmare?" 

The elf looked down at her hands resting faced up on her lap. The mark was faint, just a green line across her skin to remind her that it was never truly gone. She shook her head, but she said, "Yes, I'm fine. Rest. I didn't mean to disturb you." He must've been tired as he complied without a word of resistance and lay back down on the plush mattress. 

Her bare feet hit the stone floor and she dazedly moved towards the wash bin and brought up the water to her face with cupped hands. It felt colder than it should've been, despite knowing it was at room temperature. A fever, perhaps. She was sick- that happened sometimes. A Herald or Inquisitor was not immune, though she had little doubts others thought she was above the petty or mundane parts of life. 

She looked up into her mirror, greeted by wet hair plastered to her face and a red glow in her eyes.


End file.
